


Ballroom Dancers [ Unfinished ]

by Silverskye13



Series: Unfinished Works [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, but in like a wholesome way, gaster being an insufferable ass and grillby being the unwilling participant, rich people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 08:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16404443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverskye13/pseuds/Silverskye13
Summary: This is an unfinished piece that's been sitting in my Grillster Trash Document for almost as long as the document has been made. I feel bad for not having written anything in like... eons... and wanted to share with ya'll some of the stuff that will probably never be finished -- and this is one of them!Gaster is invited to a party.Grillby is his +1 with a catch





	Ballroom Dancers [ Unfinished ]

It was late in the evening when Gaster came bounding into Grillby’s bar, all smiles and ecstatic signing. A few of Grillby’s regulars still peppered the booths and barstools, nursing drinks and stories about their days and enjoying the quiet music that wafted from the crackling jukebox speakers. Grillby of course was standing behind the bar, cleaning a glass and listening to the love-sick woes of a monster who often came in complaining about their companion troubles. It put quite the jolt of surprise through all of them when the excited Royal Scientist burst through the lazy warmth of the evening.

“Well if it isn’t the mad scientist,” Grillby said with a quiet laugh and a flicker of a smile, “You’re enthusiastic today.”

“You have  _ no idea _ ,” Gaster grinned as he hopped up onto the barstool across from the elemental, “Boy do I have some news for  _ you!” _

“Oh dear.”

“It’s  _ good news _ ,” Gaster chuckled as he rifled through his inventory, “Just one second here - aha!”

With a flare he slapped an opened letter on the counter in front of Grillby. If the elemental had eyebrows, he would’ve raised them.

“Oh, a letter!” he said with deadpan sarcasm - though a smile tinged the edge of his flame yellow, “Just what I’ve always wanted.”

Gaster rested his chin in his hands, leaning in towards the bartender in excited anticipation, “Read what’s  _ in the letter _ , smartass.”

The two exchanged a quiet laugh as Grillby slipped the stylized card out of its envelope. It was embossed beautifully on the front, hand-written by an expensive calligrapher in shimmering blue ink.  _ You’re Invited _ . Inside was a short and formal invitation to the King’s annual ball. It was an extravagant affair according to the press - Grillby had never been to one himself. The elemental  _ had  _ been invited to the first few of them. As a former commander in the King’s army before they were shoved underground, he had been offered the chance to mingle with monsters of higher status. At the time, Grillby had wanted no part of it and after politely refusing so many times, the letters had eventually stopped coming.

“You were invited to the King’s Ball this year?” Grillby mused, “You go to those? I thought you hated that kind of thing.”

“The Royal Scientist is required to make an appearance,” Gaster said with a shrug, “It’s really just a bunch of slow music and know-it-alls talking politics.  _ But  _ that’s not the  _ exciting  _ part! See, the King wants to mix up the food choice this year - he’s looking for something a little simpler, more homemade. And… I told him I know a guy.”

Gaster raised the ridges above his eye sockets, his grin spreading a little wider across his teeth. Grillby flickered a frown.

“ _ No _ .”

“Oh  _ come on  _ Grillby.”

“Gaster, I make burgers and fries, for heaven’s sakes,” Grillby said with an exasperated spark, “I can’t serve  _ that  _ to royalty and nobility and… whoever else shows up!”

“ _ I’m _ technically nobility you know,” Gaster said with a sly smile, “And you cook for me all the time.”

Grillby tossed the rag he’d been using at the skeleton’s face, and Gaster caught it deftly, “ _ You _ don’t count.”

“Oh, live a little firefly!” Gaster said with an exasperated laugh, “Look, just let me take one of your menus to the King and let him decide if he wants to order off it. I can even help you come up with some extra dishes, some desserts… I’ll help you cook!”

Grillby gave an overdramatic, joking sort of gasp, “You’ll burn my poor restaurant down.”

“I’ll help you do everything  _ except  _ cook,” Gaster amended with a chuckle, “And anyway, you’re an  _ awesome  _ bartender. Don’t you want to show off some of those cool new tricks you’ve been practicing to some people  _ other  _ than your Snowdin regulars?”

At this point other monsters in the bar were starting to chip in. Yeah Grillby, why don’t you try for it? It’ll be fun! Someone made a joke about Grillby finally finding himself a mate in among the monsters in the capital. The elemental heaved a weary sigh, flickering a wan smile at Gaster.

“ _ Fine, _ ” he said finally, his breath a hiss of smoke as he reached for one of his menus, “But if the King says no, for the love of god don’t bother him about it.”

Gaster let out a triumphant “yes!” and pumped a fist in the air - earning some whistles and claps from the other patrons in the bar as well, “This is gonna be awesome Grillby, just you wait!”

 

<hr />

 

For a week Grillby heard nothing more about it, and the elemental allowed himself to breathe a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe someone else had been chosen? Maybe the King just absolutely despised everything on Grillby’s menu? Maybe Gaster lost Grillby’s stuff in the mix of his office paperwork and reports and forgot to actually give it to the King in the first place?

Of course, Grillby’s expectations were dashed when he received a pair of letters in the mail, sealed with the King’s stamp and once again written in that fanciful calligraphy.  _ Oh boy _ . The first letter was a simple invitation much like Gaster’s had been, though a bit more personalized to Grillby and his establishment. The second letter was a list, an  _ incredibly long list _ , of all the food that needed to be prepared for the ball, contacts for who would pick what up and when, as well as the account the bill was to be sent to. The writer ended the letter with a final call for Grillby to send a list of drinks he’d like to make as the bartender for the evening, and they would provide the types of alcohol he needed - and that he was more than welcome to accept tips during the event.

Well… that was nice. If nothing else the evening would prove to be profitable. And also an absolute pain in the neck to prepare for. Grillby hissed out a sigh of smoke, picked up a notepad nearby and started jotting down everything he’d need. As he wrote, he pulled out his phone and typed in Gaster’s number.

“Royal Labs, W. D. Gaster speaking,” came the clipped answer through the speaker.

Grillby flickered a grin, “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?”

Sharp laughter answered him, peppered with faint static, “You got it didn’t you? I  _ knew  _ they’d ask you to do the cooking! Honestly Grillby this is gonna be awesome!”

“Oh it’ll be awesome alright,” Grillby said with happy sarcasm, “Clear your schedule for the next few weeks. You’re helping me work this out.”

“Aye-aye Captain!” Gaster laughed, “See you in a few hours.”

The two hung up and Grillby leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh. Well… things were about to get interesting to say the least.

 

<hr />

 

What followed was a montage-worthy scurry of preparation and ordering materials. The first week saw Grillby compiling his list of drinks and ingredients for them, practicing a few parlor tricks for serving them and so on - and Gaster  _ insisting  _ on trying every one of them. Grillby never let him have too much. He needed the skeleton  _ sober  _ if he was to get any help. When that was finished and the materials list sent to whoever it was in the King’s secretarial staff that was handling that mess, Grillby got to work refining his menu. The King had ordered a mess of different types of burgers, fries, salads, hot dogs, and Grillby had to go about the task of making them all bite-sized and arranging them in trays for dancers and minglers to snap up on the way to their tables. Most of the cooking was done the morning before - save for a handful of desserts that could be kept frozen for a few days. It was probably the most cooking Grillby had ever done in his life - made a little easier with Gaster hovering nearby.

Transporting the mess of items to the capital was a feat that took ingenuity and help from some of the King’s staff. It was probably the most traffic Snowden had gotten since it was first settled, honestly! There were temperature-controlled carts shoved through the snow and loaded until brimming. Then they were dragged back over to the river - past a disgruntled Riverperson whose ferry was put out of order while the transport boats skimmed back and forth. 

It was a nerve-wracking ride when Grillby was ushered onto one himself and sent floating down the river. Gaster held the umbrella as they wound their way through Waterfall, and spoke reassuring words to the elemental whenever the boat hit one snag or another. Grillby clung to the skeleton’s arm for dear life, eyes closed and body shaking.

“We’re walking back,” Grillby had whispered once about halfway through the terrifying trip.

Gaster had nodded and put a protective arm around the elemental’s shoulders, eyeing the water with his own nervous frown, “Definitely.”

They were the first official guests to arrive - though Grillby supposed he was technically a part of the staff, wasn’t he? Most of the setup was taken care of for the elemental, workers and serving staff bustling to and fro with the food he’d prepared, setting it up on tables covered in shimmering silk cloths and arranged on fine glass dishes. Honestly Grillby thought his food looked terribly out of place on the fine settings. But… it was what the King had  _ wanted _ , so he supposed he shouldn’t dwell on it too long.

The Ballroom itself was grand and captivating, even with some of the decorations still being placed. There was a vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows lit with artificial light that allowed the images in them to pool like colored water on the floors. The floor itself was a reflective black, the tiles laced with the glowing blue powder of crystals from waterfall. It looked as if the night sky outside the underground had somehow been captured in the floor.

Of course there were also chandeliers, trailing fabrics that swooped and shimmered about the rafters. On the far end of the room was a stage where a band was already being set up, nearby it a vintage-style microphone was being prepped for whatever singers would be entertaining the guests. In one corner of the room, styled with colored lights and glassware, was the bar Grillby would be working at for the evening. His own, homespun barroom was so lackluster in comparison - along with the outfit he was wearing, Grillby realized with a nervous spark. It  _ was  _ the best he had. A neatly pressed white shirt and bowtie, the most expensive vest he owned - which was probably worth less than a single glass he’d be pouring a drink into that evening - and a waist-high apron to tie it all together. Suddenly it all seemed so… lacking.

Grillby had enough time for his flame to turn in nervous greens before Gaster was snatching up the elemental’s hand in his, startling Grillby out of his thoughts.

“Oh I almost forgot!” Gaster laughed, “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

Grillby let himself be pulled out of the main ballroom and down one of the side hallways - equally grand as the previous room, Grillby noticed. The hall was lined with different types of armor, probably donated by former soldiers - some of the pieces still had scores in them from where they’d done their work of protecting the wearer. Of course, Grillby’s was at home, in a closet, collecting the non-life-threatening kind of dust.

“Am I allowed to be here?” Grillby asked as they turned down another hall, the rooms branching off from this one looking a lot like personalized guest rooms, “This looks like someplace I’m not allowed to be.”

“Oh nobody stays here very often,” Gaster said, waving his free hand dismissively, “Besides, we’re only going to be here for a few minutes.”

With that, Gaster pulled Grillby into one of the rooms. Everything about the room was  _ so expensive _ . Grillby got the distinct feeling he shouldn’t so much as  _ look  _ at the carpets with his dirty shoes on. Gaster was completely unphased. He just jogged over to the large bed and started pulling things out of his inventory, eventually laying a neatly pressed outfit across the blankets. He motioned for Grillby to join him, and the elemental hesitantly meandered his way further into the room. The door slammed shut behind him - the work of Gaster’s blue magic. 

“So!” Gaster proclaimed grandly, crossing his arms and shooting Grillby a prideful look, “What do you think?  _ I  _ think I’m a pretty good outfit coordinator, honestly.”

Grillby blinked down at the clothes, first in awe and then in  _ horror _ .

“ _ Gaster.” _

“That’s  _ Doctor  _ Gaster to you!” the skeleton laughed, meandering away from Grillby to a further corner in the room, “I go by my title tonight!”

“ _ How much did this cost?!” _

“What really  _ is  _ the value of a wonderful night?” Gaster countered, pulling more from his inventory as he walked - a change of clothes for himself, “Hurry up and get dressed. Asgore’s gonna be checking on how the setup is going soon, and I  _ need  _ you to show him how you mix those flame-y drinks.”

“I’m paying you back for this,” Grillby muttered, turning his back to the skeleton and unbuttoning his vest.

“Yeah yeah, wear it to my funeral or something. Let’s just pray it actually  _ fits _ , okay?”

Grillby took great care in switching the outfits while wrinkling the new one  _ as little as possible.  _ Oh geez. Grillby had no idea what the fabric was made of, but it was the softest stuff he’d ever touched in his life, smooth and shimmering in the light of his flame. The vest and pants were raven black, an opalescent sheen across the fabric turning in tints of purple, red, blue and green every time he moved. The shirt underneath it was a deep blue, so much so it could’ve been black in the right lighting. It was the bright glow from Grillby’s flame that could distinguish it from the iridescent black of the rest of his clothes. Gaster had even gone through the trouble of finding a matching bowtie, and Grillby tied the shimmering blue fabric around his collar with a nervous smile. 

There was a full body mirror in the room, and while Grillby neatly rolled his sleeves up about his forearms he watched himself in it. The light from his flame caught on the fabric so brilliantly… a lot of thought and care had gone into picking out the outfit. The lack of tags on any of the pieces gave Grillby the impression it might have been tailor made, and he spun through nervous colors of green and blue just thinking about that.

“ _ Ohh  _ that looks  _ snazzy _ ,” Gaster laughed, popping up behind Grillby’s shoulder in the mirror, “Wonder if I can get you to keep burning blue all night?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Grillby said with a nervous chuckle.

“Hmm… think I could run back to the lab and grab some copper chloride before this shindig starts?”

“Or I could just drink some vodka,” Grillby shrugged, and then laughed at the excited look that spread across Gaster’s face, “I’m kidding Gaster. Do you have any idea how much I’d have to drink to turn my whole body blue?”

“Dude, drink  _ all the vodka _ ,” Gaster grinned, “You would match the decor out there! But first, please help.”

Grillby turned to face the skeleton, who was holding out his arms expectantly, the long sleeves of his shirt almost hanging over his fingers.

“Please tell me you know how to cuff your own sleeves.”

“I wear lab coats and sweaters, Grillby. Do you  _ think  _ I can cuff my own sleeves?”

Grillby flickered an amused smile and got to work rolling up the skeleton’s sleeves so they sat nicely on his wrists. Gaster had a pair of cufflinks to hold them in place -  inscribed playfully with tiny microscopes. The shirt itself was the only part of the outfit that deviated from jet black - the fabric was a handsome wine red color. Instead of a suit jacket, Gaster wore a strange, collared cape that hugged his thin shoulders and stopped at his waist height. Grillby hardly believed that sort of thing to be in style anymore, but of course Gaster would wear it anyway.

Gaster stood with his fists on his sides, admiring the way he looked in the mirror for a few seconds, “ _ Perfect _ . This is gonna be great. Alright! Let’s go!”

Gaster gathered up his and Grillby’s more casual clothes with blue and was bounding out the door in the same motion - Grillby struggling to keep up. Gaster stuffed their things in his inventory as they went, all the while chattering excitedly about how much Grillby was going to  _ love  _ the ball tonight. Honestly it was hard not to get caught up in the skeleton’s excitement. Grillby could feel a growing feeling of quiet happiness in his chest, something to counteract the nervousness he’d been feeling before. He hoped his friend was right.

Gaster spend the next hour hovering by Grillby’s little bar corner, watching the elemental get set up for the evening. True to what Gaster had said earlier, Asgore  _ did  _ come around to check on the progress of setup. Grillby couldn’t help but feel…  _ inferior _ … in the boss monster’s presence. Whether Asgore wished it or not, his overwhelming intent was always stifling. He counteracted it as best he could with kindness and warmth, but there was still an overhanging, intimidating sort of  _ power  _ that radiated off the monster at all times.

He spoke politely to Grillby - albeit a bit awkwardly. Grillby and Asgore had never been on very personable terms,  _ especially  _ during the war, when Grillby had been nothing more than a summoned soldier. As a commander the two had spoken often, but never casually, and while Grillby didn’t bear any ill will towards the monster, he also wasn’t particularly fond of him. Grillby couldn’t help himself. He stiffened with Asgore standing nearby. Even when the King’s attention eventually shifted to Gaster, and the two monsters struck up a conversation of their own, Grillby felt tense. Eventually Asgore moved on.

“You don’t like him, do you?” Gaster asked with a regretful sort of smile.

Grillby shrugged stiffly, “He’s the King. I don’t have to like him.”

“I know,” Gaster sighed, “But really… he’s a nice enough guy once you get to know him. He’s really softened up over the years, since the war ended, y’know?”

“I’m sure he has,” was all Grillby cared to answer back with.

Gaster shrugged, content to let the subject drop. Music was finally starting to strike up anyway, and other monsters were starting to amble their way in. Grillby didn’t recognize very many of them. A few faces he’d seen before, probably plastered onto billboards in New Home or printed in the paper at some point or another. All except for the servers were dressed beautifully. Shimmering, trailing gowns, specially tailored suits, jewelry, brooches - all wrapped up in well-mannered smiles. For now everyone was mingling, waiting for the King to officially begin the evening with one of his speeches. A few monsters had already noticed Gaster, and started ambling in his direction.

The skeleton laughed and rolled his eyes, “Woo, and so it begins. Oh! Here.”

He slipped a few gold pieces into Grillby’s tip jar, grinning, “Okay  _ bartender! _ Hook me up with two of your flame-y drinks.”

Grillby chuckled, “Isn’t it a little early in the evening for you to be drinking,  _ Doctor? _ ”

Gaster hushed him, giggling, “Shh! Just do the thing.”

The elemental rolled his eyes, pulled a couple bottles off the shelf behind him and got to work. He knew  _ why  _ Gaster wanted him to make these. He wanted Grillby to show off. For once, Grillby didn’t mind. That  _ was  _ why he was here, after all. And besides, he’d been practicing a few tricks anyway.

Grillby set a pair of glasses on the table and with the flick of his wrist sent one of the bottles he’d picked into the air. In the time it took him to catch it behind his back he’d sent the second bottle flying as well. With a flourish he passed the first to his free hand and caught the second, moving in a soft rhythm to pour both bottles into the waiting glasses - and then a line of liquor streaming across the counter from both glasses. 

**Author's Note:**

> So obviously this isnt finished. I'd like to someday, maybe. But at this point I cant even remember the song I wanted the boys to dance to. This was also going to be another chance to introduce Avi, the asshole antagonist character that no one has ever met yet because all the shorts he's supposed to be in have never been written. But! Ah well.
> 
> I loved the descriptions I managed to crank out for this story though, and the interactions between Grillby and Gaster, and figured it was worth sharing. If ya'll have any ideas of how it should go forward [ or decide you wanna finish it yourselves ] have at thee! I'd love to know / read whatever you've got.
> 
> Until next time!  
> // curls up on the floor and sleeps //


End file.
